“Something’s not right,” said the female amongst them. “I can’t feel his power. We should’ve known he was coming a mile off.”
“It’s a trick,” Guilluame replied. “He’s a human disguised as Tristan.”
“That’s easy enough for you to check,” I snapped. There was only so much time, and I couldn’t afford a delay. “Either let me pass or send someone to fetch the King.”
The heat remained, their faces unconvinced.
“I’ve been deprived of my magic,” I said, sweat trickling down my back. “One of you should be more than sufficient to keep me in line, if that is your concern.”
“Go to the palace,” the female ordered the youngest of them. To the others, she said, “Let him in. We’ll keep him here until we have our orders.”
The glowing gate swung outward, and I gave it wide berth as I passed, not wishing to be burned. My skin stung from the radiant heat as it was, healing mortal slow without my magic. So strange to fear something so insignificant.
When I was through, the female pulled off her gauntlet and slapped a hand against my cheek, feeling for the presence of a disguise. “Nothing,” she said, her voice curious. “It’s him.”
“Deprived of your magic, you say.” Guillaume pulled off his helmet. “How’d that come to pass?”
“That’s a conversation I’ll have with my father and none other.”
“Of course.” He grinned, revealing a piece of something green stuck between his two front teeth. “I wonder how well His Grace will reward me for putting you down.” Then he attacked, not me, but his fellows, sending the female flying through the air and then slicing the remaining guard in two.
I turned to run, but his magic caught my ankle, then slammed me against the cobbles. “Some things are better done by hand,” he said, and his boot caught me in the ribs with an audible crack. The female guard raced back and tried to interfere, but he walled her off, his magic stronger, if only barely.
Blow after blow struck me in the sides, in the arms, in my face, and there was nothing I could do to get away. Bones cracked and blood splattered the ground, but through it all I saw the face of my attacker. How he sensed my weakness and reveled in it. Then the air stirred, filling with a sound much like a whip being cracked, and through the swelling of my eyes, I watched Guillaume’s head drop to the ground next to me.
“Get up.”
I struggled to rise, and my father’s hand latched under my arm, hauling me to my feet.
My lone defender stood wild-eyed. “I tried to stop him, Your Majesty,” she pleaded.
“Go find others to replace them,” he snarled at her, and she took off running.
It took every ounce of willpower I had not to pass out from the pain as he dragged me through the streets to the palace. They were empty as they only were during curfew, but the faces of those peering out from behind windows filled with dismay when they recognized me.
“What’s happened?” I asked, spitting a mouthful of blood.
“Sluag,” he said. “Now keep your mouth shut until we’re behind closed doors.”
He brought me to his office, dropping me unceremoniously on the plush carpets. Going to a tray laden with goodies, he plucked up several linen napkins and a pitcher of water before kneeling next to me and wiping blood off my face.
“That hurts,” I complained, flinching away to get into a better position, the knife tucked into my boot burning against my skin.
“Gives you a bit of a taste of what it’s like to be human.”
Neither his words or his tone were what I’d expected, and I lifted my head. “You don’t seem surprised.”
“I’m not.” He rinsed the napkin in the water, then held it to the cut on my cheek. “Winter called your debt. Cécile was here and she told me enough. I sent her to tell you to stay put in Trianon, but it would appear she didn’t make it in time.”
There was never a chance she would.
“Stones and sky, you’re bleeding like a human,” my father muttered, his jaw tightening. Then in one violent motion, he rose to his feet and threw the pitcher against the wall in an explosion of glass. Going to the cold fireplace, he rested his arms on the mantle, head bowed.
And his back to me.
I inched my fingers down to the hidden knife, moving slowly so as not to catch his attention. I’d known without magic that he’d discount me as a threat, would lower his guard. And now was my chance.
Do it!
My hand closed around the hilt, slowly pulling it free.
“You should’ve told me about the debt,” he said. “I could’ve bargained with her. Given her what she wanted in exchange for letting you be.”
I froze.
“Though I suppose I can’t blame you for not trusting me. It was how you were raised.” He sighed deeply. “And now the Winter trickster is free to run around the Isle, slaughtering her enemy’s people at will with no one to stand in her way.”
She wasn’t free, but I’d made sure to make it to Trollus before any of his spies could bring word that she was trapped. It wouldn’t be long now, though, and as soon as he knew, I was sure he’d see through my plot.